The Inverted World
by UnknownUnseenUnheard
Summary: Jason, Rachel, and Reyna wake up to a twisted new reality. Kronos rules supreme. Percy is his second in command. The timeline has been changed, and nothing makes sense anymore. Now, its a race against time. Through the ruble of the world they once knew, the three must find out the cause- and fast, before Kronos can make this new world permanent.
1. We Wake Up in Topsy Turvey Land

A/N: This is somewhat inspired by one of my favorite Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes, The Wish. Make of that what you will.

Published: 9/4/2016

Warnings: None for this chapter

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 **We Wake Up In Topsy Turvey Land**

Jason Grace honestly had no idea how it had happened.

Everything had been so right in the world. He had Piper by his side, Leo had come back- Nico had evidently been in charge of some sort of smack and greet? - and everything was right with the world. His best friend was back, all of them were happy, Reyna was actually talking to him again, the Camps were at peace, what could possibly go wrong?

Well, that's the thing.

That's a question a Demigod should never, ever, ask themselves.

Jason remembered going to sleep with Piper in his arms. They hadn't actually done anything- Jason really couldn't bring himself too with that creepy giant statue of his dad in the middle of his cabin, it was definitely a mood killer- but the pair of them did like sharing a bed.

After the wars, after the struggles, it was good to wake up wrapped around someone you love, and Jason Grace loved Piper McLean with all his heart.

Everything was right with the world.

Everything was perfect.

Until, it wasn't.

Jason woke up with a start. Groggily, he sat up, blinking at the sound of- explosions? It took less than a second for Jason's brain to process the information, for him to take in his surroundings, for his mind to come to several conclusions.

One, Piper was no longer at his side.

Two, he was no longer in Cabin One.

And, three, he was back at Camp Jupiter.

Jason sprung up from bed, shocked. How had he- no, it didn't matter. It didn't matter how Jason had magically transported to Camp Jupiter in the middle of the night, all that mattered was that he was here and Camp Jupiter was under attack.

Without a second though, Jason rummaged around for a weapon, anything, before his hands closed around a coin. Jason blinked. He could have sworn- another explosion shook the camp. No time.

The door was slammed open.

"Jason- What in Mars name, were you honestly sleeping through an attack?"

Jason froze.

One second.

Two.

Ivlivis spun in the air, a spear fell into Jason's hands, and Octavian found himself pinned to the wall, the sharp end at his throat.

"Preator, have you lost your min-"

"You died." Jason cooley interrupted. Octavian looked at him as if Jason had lost his mind. For a second, Jason believed he had before he continued, resisting the urge to snarl. "I was there. I watched you burn… No, impossible…" Jason began to mutter to himself, eyes shining with suspicion.

Octavian looked at him as if he were mad. And, for a second, Jason could have sworn there was a look of concern in the former Augur's eyes, but that had to be a trick of the light. Octavian had been a power hungry bastard. He had cared for nobody and nothing other than himself, the rest of the world be damned.

"Perhaps it was a dream. A sign from the Gods, something we are meant to stop," Octavian suggested. Jason snorted. Of course. Octavian was concerned. Concerned for his own survival, that is.

Another explosion shook the complex.

Jason considered.

For all he knew, this could be an illusion of the Mist. This could all be in his head. A God, a powerful Demigod like Hazel skilled in Mist Manipulation, hell, he might have managed to piss of Dionysus and this was all a mad hallucination.

"We have no time. The camp is under attack." Jason concluded, letting his speak drop before moving out the door without a second though.

Octavian stood still for a moment, scratching his chin.

Normally, this was something Octavian would have used to his advantage.

A Praetor of Rome, unable to tell reality from dream?

However, on the other hand…

Octavian was no fool. They needed every man woman and child if they hoped to survive. A mentally unstable Jason was a threat to them all. Octavian may be a power hungry bastard, but he was a patriotic power hungry bastard. Narrowing his eyes, the Legacy contemplated his next move.

The son of Jupiter decided to pay the skinny Augur no mind. He'd deal with Octavian's apparent survival later. Right now, he had a duty to fulfill. Jason Grace may no longer be Praetor of Camp Jupiter, but this is where he had been raised. This place had been his home for so many years. Jason would be damned if he let it fall on his watch.

However, when Jason finally made his way outside… He seriously wished he hadn't. Jason could not believe his eyes. This had to a lie. Nightmare. This was a nightmare. He'd pissed off Somnia. That had to be it.

Because this?

This could not be real.

The world around him could not be the true reality. This had to be a lie. A farce. A deception. This wasn't real. None of this was real. None of this could be real.

Because, let's face it.

In what world would the Argo II blast away at the border of Camp Jupiter make any sense at all? Okay, that had technically happened the first time around too, but that been due to possession.

Now, unless there was an army of Eidolons, this was no possession.

This was not real.

This could not be real.

Please, let him wake up. Let this all be a dream, a nightmare, hell, Jason would even take a Demigod vision as long as it meant he'd get a chance to prevent it from happening.

Because, there, above in the sky, was the Argo II.

And it was raining fire down upon Camp Jupiter.

"Jason! Jason!"

Jason's mouth snapped shut. No more gaping like an idiot. He barely even acknowledged Reyna as she ran up to him, pulling uselessly on his sleeve. Jason's eyes were still blankly transfixed on a ship that he distinctly remembered had exploded. Okay, so Leo was on repairs, but he hadn't finished yet. Perhaps someone had hijacked the Argo II despite it not being finished the day before and did it faster than Leo could have? Unlikely, sure, but the alternative… Yeah, that had to be it. Someone had hijacked the Argo II and-

"Attention, Roman Demigods." Jason knew that voice. Dread pooled into the pit of his stomachs. No… No…. No…

There, at the helm of the ship, stood a boy Jason knew well.

Their bro competitions were legendary.

"The Era of Old has come to an end! The Gods Have fallen, Olympus is ours, and this is a dawning of a New Age, a Golden Age for mankind! Come, brothers and sisters, and kneel before the Lord Saturn! The Age of Titans begins again!"

No… No… No…

"Jason, what the hell is happening! Why is Percy leading an army against us! And, how is Octavian still alive!"

Jason's eyes snapped towards her. With shock, Jason realized one thing. Reyna remembered. A dark feeling built into the pit of his stomach.

Reyna remembered.

Reyna remembered.

She _remembered **.**_

For her to remember a world that Jason knew as reality, that meant…

"Oh Gods… This… This is real?"

* * *

Rachel Elizabeth Dare had no idea how it happened.

She, of all people, could feel it.

The change in the flow.

The breaking of destiny.

A change, echoing across time and space.

She felt when the world flipped, when everything she knew, everything she loved, everything she cherished faded into a dark new reality.

There was perhaps only one positive to that.

Rachel awoke in a Camp Half Blood.

She didn't know how she knew. However, there were things she did know, instinctively, as she shuddered awake. Clutching at the sheets, Rachel managed to get control of the tremors that shook at her before looking around.

This was her cave.

Only, of course, it was now just a cave.

Closing her eyes, Rachel felt the world.

Something was gone.

Something was missing.

Something that should be and now wasn't.

A small detail had been changed. The flow was no longer the same.

Because of that… Kronos had won. Someone had actually managed to change the flow of time. Someone had actually managed to alter the reality they all knew. Someone… But how?

HOW!?

Even Kronos himself couldn't alter the timeline, and he was the Titan Lord of Time!

Rachel stood and made her way out to the Camp.

It was only then that she realized, her eyes gazing forward…

There was really only one way Kronos would spare Camp Half Blood. There was only one reality where Kronos won and Camp Half Blood still miraculously stood. There could only be one way.

Camp Half Blood was… Was under _his_ control.

Rachel instantly quelled her thoughts. Gods could be alerted by words alone. Rachel had been the host of the Oracle of Delphi. With a start, Rachel realized the Oracle was no longer with her. She was gone. Still, Rachel's thoughts were not a safe place, especially in a world where Kronos ruled.

She had to get out.

She had to run.

But where!?

The world was under Kronus' command. No doubt the Titan Lord was quelling rebellions all over the Globe, but it would not matter. With a start, Rachel extended her senses and came to a terrible feeling of dread.

The humans had fought back…

They'd aimed nuclear weapons at Greece, shattering the ancient hold of the Olympians. That was the problem though… They had shattered…

"Shit," Rachel cursed, glancing down at the Camp. Even now, she could see small activity.

"Dare!"

Rachel jumped, spun and reflexively lept back.

Clarisse just raised a single eyebrow in confusion before the daughter of Ares shrugged it off. She couldn't be bothered with Rachel's weirdness.

Wait.

Daughter of Ares…

"Clarisse?"

Clarisse La Rue would never kneel before Kronos. She was proud. She was stubborn. She was a fighter. Clarisse would have gone down fighting, snarling like a hellhound, literally incapable of lifting a weapon and still fighting on with her teeth. If Clarisse was here, that meant one thing.

"Kronos doesn't control the camp…"

Rachel hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud until she was slammed the rock wall by Clarisse. Rachel hissed as the sharp earth dug into her back.

"Of course that filthy bastard doesn't control this camp! We are the last stance! We are the Resistance! I don't know what you've been smoking in that cave of yours, Dare, but if you mention his name again-"

"Sorry, sorry!" Rachel exclaimed. However, that did bring to question one very important thing. Rachel glanced down at the camp. Then, her eyes darted to the side, towards the rest of New York. Though she couldn't see it from here, Rachel had no doubt that Olympus was were Kronos would make his new throne, upon the ruins of his children. They were so close to him… Yet… Yet… Rachel's eyes locked with Clarisse's.

"How have we not been overrun?"

Clarisse stared at her for several seconds. Then, at last, the daughter of Ares let her go, laughing long and hard.

"Clarisse?" Rachel asked as the daughter of Ares chuckled away on the border of hysteria.

"Our seer is going mad! Great, just what we need!"

"Clarisse!" Rachel snapped.

Clarisse, however, was not listening. Instead, she kept laughing away, at the edge of hysteria. Rachel was frightened. Any place that could do that to Clarisse, of all people… This was not a world she wanted to live in. This was not her world.

"CLARISSE!" Rachel thundered, slapping the daughter of Ares. That stopped her short. For a second, Rachel feared for her life. Clarisse wasn't exactly the calmest of Demigods. At the very least, Rachel expected a smack in return. Instead, Clarisse sighed, looked at her, and oddly enough…

"Thanks. Needed that."

Rachel took Clarisse's hands in her own and looked into the eyes of the daughter of Ares.

"Clarisse… Please… Tell me what happened. Tell me how Camp Half-Blood is still here. Please…"

"You really don't remember?"

Rachel shook her head. No, she really didn't remember… Because this world was not hers. Rachel could feel it. Every sense in her screamed it. This was not her world, but at the same time, it was. Someone had taken what she new and flipped it all around.

An inverted world.

Clarisse now looked like she wanted to throttle Rachel. Rachel winced at even the thought. Clarisse had a really rough swing. While Rachel had never been on the receiving end of said swing, she'd seen it in action.

Then, Clarisse let out a breath and the anger in her eyes suddenly faded. Rachel wished it would come back. That defeated look… It was terrifying.

"Come with me," Clarisse said, turning her back. Without even bothering to check if Rachel was following, she made her way down to the camp. With nothing better to do, Rachel followed.


	2. Fading

A/N: Hello readers! How are you all?

Enjoy :)

Published: 9/22/2016

Warnings: None really. Just speculation on my part.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 **Fading**

Percy sometimes wondered where it had all gone so horribly wrong. He sometimes took the time to think, to ponder, his mind remembering those cruel moments. He remembered how the world had twisted itself on his axis. He had remembered being forced to make a choice. Sometimes, just sometimes, Percy wondered if he had made the wrong choice. He wondered if he should have chosen differently. He wondered if he should have taken a different path.

Then, he remembered why and he would give a bitter laugh.

No. This was his fate. There was no escaping it. He was content with that.

As the world burned around him, Percy began the long process of forcing himself to forget. Who wants to remember, when all such memories bring nothing but pain?

* * *

Kronos' eyes snapped open.

What...

What was this?

How utterly fascinating.

Golden eyes stared down upon his arm. Not Castellan's. No, that fool boy was long gone. Kronos had a new flesh, a new body. He had been reborn! He lived again! After being struck down by that disgusting excuse for a great grandson, Kronos had believed completely and utterly that he would not see the light of day for thousands of years.

Not that his thoughts had mattered much at the moment. Castellan had succeeded in a task even the Olympians had failed to do. He had scattered Kronos' essence across time and space. The only fate worse than that would have been if that boy had somehow figured out a way to force Kronos to fade away.

Even he would not have been able to return from such a fate.

Kronos was whole again.

Kronos was complete.

Kronos smiled, clenching his fist in triumph. At last… All he had strived for had been accomplished. When the first Titanomachy had begun, Kronos had realized that the Titans would be, to be blunt, completely overrun. Kronos had understood what the other Titans had not. He had remembered the warnings of his father and while Kronos did not put much stock in the words of a dying beast, he wasn't about to leave it to chance. He had understood that the beginning of the Olympians was the end of the Titan era. Kronos had known, even if hadn't fully accepted it. He had been practical. He knew what must be done.

However… Absorbing a Protogeni was no easy feat.

It wasn't the first time the power of one of the ancients had been absorbed by a newer breed of immortal. Kronos knew he would not be the last. Had not Apollo and Artemis done the same centuries later, absorbing the powers of Helios and Selene?

Just as they had taken the powers of the Sun and the Moon, Kronos too had taken in another power, one greater, one stronger, one that had practically shattered even the body of the Titan Lord.

Chronos had not put up much of a fight.

That one had slept. That one was always sleeping.

Still, such power… The power of time itself! Taking it within himself had, well… There was a reason, simply put, that Kronos had not been whole while the rest of his brothers and sisters had. There was a reason Kronos had needed a human vessel, one dipped in the River Styx at that, while the rest of the Titans had simple marched out of Tartarus. Even now, thousands of years later, Kronos still hadn't recovered in his entirety.

Not that anyone remembered. No one but Kronos knew. No one else would. No one else could. After all, he had absorbed everything. It wasn't so much Kronos feeding upon the Protogeni as it was the two of them merging into one. If anything, this would have drowned Kronos in his entirety, but, well…

Chronos literally slept through the creation of the universe. Off the top of his head Kronos could not remember a single moment when Chronos had not been sleeping.

Of course, his act of feeding of the Protogeni of Time meant that Kronos had always been the Titan of Time. He had, in essence, created himself. Created… And practically destroyed himself in the process.

But, he was whole now!

Kronos cackled, slamming a fist down upon his throne. Was this Olympus? Yes… Yes, this was Olympus! Kronos looked around himself. The rest of the seats of power were gone. Yet here, on his throne, Kronos could see all, and he extended his gaze over the planet and…

Kronos threw his head back and laughed.

Oh. Humans. Poor, pitiful, pathetic humans.

They had tried to fight back! They had tried, and it had failed oh so terribly! They had assumed they were fighting the Greek Gods of old. Of course, some had tried to stop them but some trigger happy idiot had gotten their hands on the Nuclear codes, and, well…

Greece wasn't exactly habitable anymore.

That was all fine with Kronos. He and the rest of the Titans had been stripped of their strength in that land long ago. It's destruction meant nothing to him, except in one aspect.

There was no doubt. There could be no doubt.

The humans had attempted to kill the gods, and they had succeeded. By purging the seats of power for the respective Olympians, the humans had not saved themselves. They'd doomed themselves, completely and utterly.

After all, the Olympians had drawn so much strength from their temples. Now that they lay in tatters, well… So did they.

They had faded! Every last one of them! The Olympians gods were, were-

Kronos narrowed his eyes.

No. No. No!

He could sense three, just three, still coherent. In the back of his head, Kronos realized those twin pests, Apollo and Artemis, still existed as well. However, he wouldn't be bothered with them. They could not leave the island of their birth in their current state. Leaving it would mean death itself. No, not death. A fate worse than death, for even the dead still exist in some way, even the dead still leave echoes of themselves behind.

Kronos narrowed his eyes.

His senses told him that Camp Half Blood still stood. How? He tried to penetrate the barrier with his mind and was shocked when he was repelled.

Him, repelled?

Golden eyes narrowed.

How utterly curios. No matter. He could deal with Camp Half Blood eventually. For now, however, there was a far more pressing matter that demanded his attention, a matter Kronos was only aware of because he had fed upon the powers of the Protogeni of Time.

"This world… Is not permanent. Not yet. My, my… Someone is playing with ancient magics, ancient bonds that even Zeus would dare not defile!" Kronos leaned back in his throne, fingers crossed, leg tossed out carelessly. Someone had altered the timeline. More than likely, they hadn't meant to alter it like this, but no matter.

Perhaps… Kronos wondered. Perhaps it was the same as Kronos himself had done. Upon feeding upon Chronos and taking his powers onto himself, Kronos had all but erased the other. Chronos only existed in the memories of Kronos. To the rest of the world, it was as if that Protogeni had never existed. Yes. Perhaps that was it. But, it was not complete, not yet. Kronos could tell that much.

The Titan Lord smiled.

He would find the source.

He would make this new world the true world.

And, he would rule supreme.

Now… If only he could get rid of those pesky Magicians, everything would be utterly perfect. No matter. They did not matter, nor did the scattered remnants of other pantheons. It didn't matter which gods were left standing after the fall of the Olympians. The Titans would reign and anyone who refused to fall in line? Well… They would just have to fall, too.

* * *

What was this?

So dark… So cold…

Had the world always been like this?

What was a world, anyways?

There is nothing.

There had always been nothing.

Nothing exists.

Just… Just the dark. Falling, into the dark. Nothing but the dark. Fading away into nothingness, into non reality.

Who…

No.

There is no identity.

Just a shadow destined to merge into the canvas of eternity.

* * *

Her husband had done this.

There were times when Rhea wondered how things could have gone so completely and utterly wrong. It simply… Well… It just made no sense to her. How? How had this happened? Why had this happened?

Was there a reason at all?

Then, Rhea remembered.

It was that look burning in the eyes of her husband, that look burning in the eyes of her youngest.

Those that have power… What they fear the most is losing that power.

Ouranos had feared. It had been justified. He had not know. He had suspected, but he had not known. Ouranos had been a cruel father, to be sure, but he had also been one of the Protogeni.

She had hoped, truly hoped and believed that it would end with Kronos. Zeus would understand, she had believed. Kronos had been an utterly monstrous father, Zeus would never follow in his footsteps, Zeus would be better, Zeus… Zeus…

Gaia had turned against them, Rhea remembered. Gaia had turned against them, and Rhea had merely stepped aside. She loved her children, truly, she did, but she would not stand beside a second Kronos. She would not stand beside a man who had killed his own children.

Of course, Athena had been born from that particular instance. The only reason Zeus hadn't executed her was because she was a woman and it was prophesied that his son would overthrow him, not a daughter.

Gods, Titans, Protogeni.

They see power, and what do they do?

They hoard, they hoard, they hoard, they want more, more, more.

Only two of her children weren't like that, and only one of them was left. At least, Rhea believed there was only one left. She could feel in an echo in the distance, but… She dared not leave the camp. Rhea dared not leave Camp Half Blood, for only her presence here kept the barriers. She and she alone stood between them and annihilation.

She had failed as a mother. Rhea realized that. It was her failures as a mother that led to her children fighting amongst themselves, that very fighting that had led to Kronos taking over. She had failed them, but… She would not fail their legacy.

And, perhaps, she wouldn't need to.

Rhea glanced up. Around her, the campers scurried about, battle plans being made. Even now, here at the end of all things, they were Olympians by blood and they would fight to the bitter end. However, that was not what drew Rhea's attention. No… What drew her attention was one very special person.

Rhea made her way forth. The two girls halted, the taller placing her hand on the younger's to halt her movement. Rhea took several steps then lifted her hand. The red haired girl flinched at first before glancing at her companion.

Rhea hid a wince as Clarisse huffed, glared, and looked like she wanted to beat the everlasting shit out of Rachel. Sigh. That girl was too much like her father. On the bright side, at least she didn't attack everything around her at the first sign of trouble… Anymore.

Rachel sighed before nodding once. Rhea smiled then placed her hand on the mortal girl's cheek, allowing herself to feel the girl's essence. Several tense seconds passed. Then, at last, Rhea spoke.

"You… You are different…"

The girl said nothing.

Clarisse, on the other hand.

"No shit. She didn't know where she was, and when she did, she was scared." Clarisse looked downright offended. Considering she was in charge of the defenses of the Camp, Rhea could see why.

However, looking into Rachel Elizabeth Dare's eyes, she could see something else, something Clarisse had not realized.

"You… Are not from this time." Rhea scrunched her eyes. That made no sense! Not from this time? Was she from the past? What was wrong with-

Rachel began to nod in relief.

"That's right! When- when I went to bed, that- that-" Rachel then began to hyperventilate, her eyes locked on the rising tower Rhea's former consort had constructed.

"There, there, my dear girl." Rhea was a mother at heart. It was what she had always been, what she had born to be. She swept the girl into her arms as she began to shake, the reality of the situation finally kicking in.

Rhea did not understand. Not fully. But, in her heart, she had felt something.

An echo of a better world.

The girl might weep and Rhea might comfort her, but, in reality, all that the Titaness felt in that moment was a thing she had felt had been lost for a very long time. Hope.


	3. A Bitter World

A/N: So… I apparently had half this chapter sitting in some obscure corner in the back of all my documents without realizing it. Hehe. Er. Sorry?

Published: 10/14/2017

Warnings: A bit of language. Not that it phases most of you. And some violence. Nothing too graphic, more of implied, although if I actually make the implication real I'll have to change the story rating

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

A Bitter World

Another blast shook the earth, shocking Jason out of his state. There was no time to wonder where things had gone wrong, no time to wonder what sort of twisted higher power had decided to throw this particular curveball at them, no time at all.

This was war.

Percy had brought war against them.

Percy had brought war against them in the name of Saturn.

Jason spun towards his fellow Praetor.

"Reyna, we need to form a defensive barrier around the city. I'm going to try and draw Percy away from the fight. As long as he's leading it, we-"

"DRAKON!"

Eyes wide, Jason spun. Indeed. There was a massive Drakon ripping its way through the camp. Jason recognized it in a heartbeat. He'd never met this beast, but he knew what it was. He'd heard Clarisse La Rue rant about her great victory several times, after all.

The Lydian Drakon roared.

"Schist!"

Then, without warning, a dragon collided with the Drakon. Jason and Reyna blinked as the two beasts snapped and scratched at one another.

"Is… Is that…"

"No time! Rally the troops! Wish me luck?"

"Wait, luck with wha- JASON GRACE!"

Jason, already in the air, turned towards her. He smiled, gave a salute, then blasted off towards the Argo II.

* * *

Percy looked down below at the battle with a bored expression.

Really, did he have to be here?

He had better things to do with his time.

Personally, Percy would prefer to be part of the team that was about to attack Hotel Valhalla. Or maybe join Alabaster in taking out the House of Life. What threat could the Romans possible pose? History had shown, time and time again, that the Romans had been slaughtered by the Greeks at each and every turn.

Perhaps not normal history books, but to someone who knows how to look, who can see the signs of a Demigod Civil War, the signs were obvious and they were there.

These disgusting creatures weren't worth the dirt beneath his feet. Copycats of an era they had no understanding of, imitations. A fake never matches up to the original, after all.

All in all, Percy would personally like to thank Minerva, if there was anything left of her. She really had done a good job of tearing apart the Demigods across the centuries.

Really, though. As his eyes fixed below at the Romans colliding against Lord Kronos' loyal monsters and Demigods, Percy wished he'd been assigned elsewhere. Why was he here agai-

"Sir, approaching- ah!"

Percy, with a bored expression, turned. Several members of the crew turned to the commotion. Brandishing a golden sword, a lone Roman Demigod had committed suicide by boarding the Argo II. The sand of a dead monster spilled across the deck as the Demigod let his gaze slip over them all, seizing them up, wondering where to strike first.

Those blue eyes locked onto Percy's, a strange glint in them. A longing.

Oh.

Right.

This was why he was here.

Duh.

"Kill him," Percy motioned with the enthusiasm of a dying fish.

Jason Grace then idiotically closed his eyes, face scrunched in pain. Why the Roman demigod chose to do that while surrounded by enemies was beyond Percy. Perhaps the reports of Grace's power were nothing more than tall exaggerations?

That didn't last long though, because soon the blond was a whirlwind of sword slashes and spear thrusts as the monsters attacked.

Grace's sword suddenly became a spear, which he stabbed into the ship deck. Using the pole, Grace swung his legs, kicking out both physically and with wind. The spear was suddenly a sword and lightning arched from the tip, blasting several Dracanne.

Percy, bored with the show, turned and waved his hand.

The Roman Eagles that had been firing rocks at them screeched as they were sent hurtling away, several of them smashing into the unforgiving earth as the battle raged.

Percy, with surprise, noted a dragon was fighting the Drakon he'd unleashed.

Smirking, Percy tilted his head.

"Distant nephews really are interesting."

Of course, at that moment, Percy couldn't keep gazing at the battle beneath him. He couldn't because a golden blade was coming at his throat, and while Percy was sure it wouldn't do much damage, he really did like this shirt.

* * *

Reyna didn't think twice about it.

Once that idiot Jason had gone, she'd realized several things.

One, Percy was leading this attack.

Two, this wasn't your average Greco-Roman War. Saturn was behind this.

Three… If Jason faced Percy alone, there would only be one end. Everything here in this place was literally backwards. This wasn't the Percy they knew. Jason, with his kind and pure heart, though, wouldn't see that. He would see a friend and he would try to save that friend, everything else be damned.

Oh, Jason definitely wouldn't go down without a fight, but really, how can one win a battle against someone who's willing to use full force against you when you yourself are not?

Jason would die. This new twisted Percy that called Saturn master would kill him.

Besides, in war, you strike at the general. Take out the general, and the rest of the pieces fall in place.

"Centurions! Attack pattern Delta!" Reyna commanded. Then, with one last glance at the raging battle, Reyna mounted Scipio and took off.

Okay, so maybe she should have stayed behind and rallied the troops more, but still. Taking out Percy would be the quickest way to end this. If she and Jason could stop him here and now, at the very beginning of the battle, that would be a demoralizing blow to the enemy side.

That didn't stop Reyna from letting her Battle Meditation sweep across the camp. The concept of multitasking was one that was simple for someone like her.

Jason would need back up. Frank, unfortunately, would have to face the Drakon alone. A part of her wondered why he could transform in the first place when he hadn't learned the ability until much later in the original timeline, but Reyna decided she could focus on that later.

The canons of the Argo II, mysteriously, did not fire upon her. As she landed, it didn't take Reyna long to figure out why.

In the middle of the deck, Jason was fended off a very bored looking Percy. All around them were either the ashes of deceased monsters or knocked out Demigods that Jason had put out of commission.

Wait…

Bored looking?

Jason leapt back as his sword flipped, become a spear. Sliding across the wooden floor of the Argo II, he lifted the blade and let loose a destructive blast of lightning.

Percy yawned before batting it away with his hand.

His hand.

Not his sword.

His hand.

"Is this really the best you people have? I am so disappointed." Percy drawled.

Jason roared. Somersaulting into the air, Jason's blade transformed into a sword, the edges cackling with the power of his father.

He never struck.

Instead, Percy raised a single hand and Jason's movement came to a grinding halt. A little twist of Percy's fingers had Jason's weapon flying. Percy tilted his head as Jason began to choke, gripping at his throat.

"You're blonde. I've never liked blonds. I think I'll kill you slowly. I'll make you last." Percy grinned, "Make you watch."

His expression twisted. His sea green eyes churned with such hatred that for a second Reyna doubted it was him. Doubted that it was Percy. Riptide glowing at his side, it seemed Percy hadn't even bothered to draw the sword. He'd caught Jason, blade to hand.

This…

This monster…

Reyna decided that this monster could not be Percy. It was simply too powerful. Percy Jackson may be one of the strongest Half-Bloods to ever live, but so was Jason Grace. It was like standing before Titans, here on this deck with the pair of them. That was an apt comparison, Reyna realized. The pair of them had actually defeated Titans, struck them down and cast them away.

Reyna, however, was no slouch herself.

Jackson's right hand lifted towards her as Reyna fell down, knife aimed for his neck. The knife swerved through the air. Casually, Jackson moved his head to the side as ripped past him.

Reyna choked as she too was halted midair.

What… What was this? What was this power?

Jackson grinned up at her.

"Can you feel it? That tingling, below your skin?"

She could. She could feel it. She could feel it flowing through every part of her body, connecting it, flowing like the rivers.

What…

Jackson's grin turned malicious.

"That's your blood. Do you know how much of the human body is water? How much of any organism, really, is made of water? Do you know what happens when you make a Gods ichor boil? I wonder… What happened if I make your blood boil?"

Jackson was slowly approaching her, his eyes dancing with madness. He was mad. This whole world was mad. Everything was wrong. That insane glint in his eyes told Reyna he would do it.

Percy would make her choke to death on her own boiling blood. And he would do it with a smile.

Percy, the kind boy she had grown to trust. Percy, one of her most trusted comrades. Percy, the boy she had chosen to stand by her side as Predator. Percy, hero of two wars, friend, ally, cute, adorable, loveable, monstrous Percy.

The Son of Poseidon was going to kill her.

Reyna screamed. Already, she could feel her blood begin to heat.

He was going to really…

Jason roared.

Reyna had the satisfaction of seeing shock light Jackson's features as Jason seemed to break free of whatever hold contained him. Jackson didn't even have time to block as Jason came at him with a slash.

Reyna fell with a cough as Jackson leapt back, his shirt torn open. Jackson looked downright murderous, insane joy replaced by fury.

"You… You… Son of Cephalopod! Do you have any idea how long it took me to find this motherfucking shirt?! Could you not have aimed for the neck!?"

Jason looked stunned. Reyna couldn't blame him.

Then, and only then, Jackson drew his sword.

"For glorious murdered badass t-shirts!"

Then, Jackson was on him. With a growl, Reyna stood and joined the fray, not that it made much difference. Jackson, as always, was a whirlwind in combat, acrobatic leaps in every direction. He used his full body in combat. Legs, arms, one particular headbut which tossed Jason back several feet.

Jackson gave a small gasp of surprise as Reyna leaped and managed to wrap her legs around his sword arm. They fell to the ground in a clash of limbs as Reyna, instinct taking over, drove a dagger through her former friends neck.

Or attempted.

Jackson grinned up at her as the blade shattered upon colliding with his neck.

"Blessing of the Styx, sweetheart."

A knee to the chest sent Reyna flying. With a rattling groan, Reyna managed to land on her feet in a crouch. Jackson, however, was already there, faster than she could see.

"Another blessing, sweetheart."

A tap. Just a tap. Reyna screamed as her arm shattered.

Falling to her knees, Reyna coughed, blood falling from his lips.

"You're too young to play with the big boys. Both of you are. Seriously, of all the assignments, this pathetic hellhole?"

Jackson then spun. With ease, he disarmed Jason and gripped him in a headlock, his front to Jason's back.

This…

This just wasn't possible.

It just wasn't.

Did… Did the Curse of Achilles really make such a difference between them? Demigods were already stronger and more powerful than ordinary beings. But Jackson was on a whole nother level.

"Jay, Jay, Jay. Sloppy. You'd think you wanted to be held in my loving arms, superboy."

Jason gritted his teeth.

"Did you know, Percy, that I helped build this ship? According to Leo, I'm actually a blacksmith's godsend because of my ability to manipulate wind."

That got a shocked blink from Jackson.

"... I'll have to discuss with Valdez on to whom it's appropriate to work with, it seems. Fraternization with the enemy is a big no no."

Jason, however, was smirking.

Reyna knew that look. Reyna knew it well.

All too easy. That capture had been to easy.

Jason twisted his neck slightly so he could look Jackson in the eyes, sky blue to sea green.

"Do you know, Percy, what happens when you remove all the air particles in a particular area?"

Jackson sneered. "Should I care?"

Arrogance. Assured of his own victory. Like a god.

"In the vacuum of space, Astronauts have to be careful. There is no air, so… When you leave metal around, it actually fuses automatically. Air is really the only thing that prevents it from happening naturally, you see." Jason revealed.

The look of realization came a second too late.

There was a flash of sudden light as the metallic armor of the Titan commander twisted on itself, the pieces fusing into one. Jackson gave a yelp of surprise before Jason ripped himself free.

Without a moment's hesitation, Reyna roared. Leg swinging, it collided with Jackson's chest. The look of rage in his face was all the sweeter as he was blasted off the Argo II, falling below to the waters of the Little Tibet beneath.

Reyna gave one last shiver before her eyes rolled into the back of her skull. Falling headfirst onto the floor, it took every ounce of will not to fall unconscious. Warm, familiar hands gripped her shoulders and she leant into it. Something was pressed into her mouth and Reyna didn't hesitate.

The ambrosia burned.

It had never tasted so bitter.

For some reason, it tastes like cookies. Cookies, Reyna's mind supplied, baked by Sally Jackson. Warmth and home. Warmth that reality had now twisted.

Yes.

This really was a bitter world they had found themselves in. It really was.


	4. Fusion Theory

A/N: I got a request for an update on this, so here it is

Published: 12/06/2017

Warnings: None for this one

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 **Fusion Theory**

Gods, contrary to popular belief, are not eternal. They can fall. They can break. They can die. They can be cast down, stripped of their divinity, destroyed by every measure of the word. Sometimes, gods are born from the darkness. Humans ascend to another plain and become gods. Other times, gods merely are, powerful forces of nature that exist just because.

Apollo had been human before. For a moment, he craved that. He craved being human again. Pathetic and weak and mortal. Frail, his godly strength lost, just a pathetic, withering human. Pathetic was the word to describe it, Apollo concluded. What other word fit better in this situation? What other word indeed.

The world had fallen, and as the God of Prophecy, he should have seen. He should have seen and he should have seen a way to prevent it, but he hadn't seen damn it, he hadn't seen and he had failed and how pathetic was that?

"Wallowing in self pity won't help defeat Kronos, brother."

Artemis.

She didn't understand.

Yes, the Hunters had been all but exterminated. Yes, this world had taken as much, if not more, from her than it had from him. But Artemis couldn't possibly understand Apollo's anguish.

How could she, when she didn't have his sight? How could she, when she didn't have the flashes and warnings and instead of following them, chose to ignore them?

"I should have murdered Percy Jackson the moment I met that arrogant self centered brat." Apollo spat out.

"Yes, yes, Apollo. I've heard that many times."

"He murdered our uncle. He murdered his own father. The halls of Atlantis run red with the blood of its people, because Jackson slaughtered them all."

Apollo was very content with his brooding in the dark corner of the little house they had found. Artemis, apparently, was not as a hunting knife slammed down next to him. Apollo did not jump. Apollo was too dignified to be startled by such an action. Artemis would say otherwise, but Artemis is a filthy liar because Apollo was pure and good and he had absolutely no idea how to even tell a lie.

"Enough, Apollo! We are… We are practically all that's left, and I won't sit here while you wallow in your pity! We need to move! We need to do something! We have to-"

Apollo had enough. Surging to his feet, he felt a distinct satisfaction as he towered over his sister. It grew as she took a single step back. Annoyingly, the fierce look in her eyes didn't waver for a second, but Apollo would take what he could when it came to his little sister.

"There is nothing we can do! The Olympians are gone! What are we in comparison, Artemis? What can we do against the might of the Titans? It took the Big Three working together to defeat Kronos in the original Titanomachy! How can we hope to match a force that power-"

Then, Apollo felt it.

There, in the back of his senses. Screaming, across time and space. Something old. Something new. Something borrowed. Head snapping in the direction, Apollo felt a distinct feeling pool in his gut that he hadn't felt in so long. A feeling he thought he would never feel again.

Maybe… Just maybe…

"Apollo?"

Apollo's eyes darted back to his sister. For once, her gaze was gentle. Her gaze was kind. The huntress was worried for him. It was such a weird concept, because the huntress never worried for him. If anything, she typically led him to the things that caused him anguish. Siblings are such trolls.

Except, now, her eyes held a concern that was so much unlike her.

Not surprising.

They were, after all, practically the last of their kind.

"I knew it…" Apollo muttered, much to Artemis' confusion. Then, without missing a beat, he spun around and began to grab paper from who knows where, sometimes even thin air as he slammed them down onto a wooden table. A pen materialized in his hands. "I knew it! I knew! Ha, I knew!"

Apollo began to scribble incoherently, tossing one paper aside as he grabbed another, then another, then another.

Artemis could only watch with growing trepidation. By Chaos, had her little brother finally lost his mind? Had he at last given into insanity, to desperately?

"Fusion theory!" Apollo exclaimed.

Artemis blinked.

"What?"

Apollo ignored her. Instead, he waved his hand over the papers and Artemis watched as they stuck themselves to the wall, forming an intricate web of interweaving events. Artemis blinked again.

"What?" she repeated.

Apollo turned to her. His chest heaved as if he had just run a marathon. Sweat fell from his brow in an undignified manner. His eyes were lit with such excitement, such joy, however, that Artemis doubted her brother noticed. If he had, he'd no doubt freak out, drama king that Apollo was.

"Fusion theory. The theory that, when two beings merge, the other and all their actions are erased, therefore creating an alternate timeline that overlaps and fuses itself onto the current reality." Apollo exclaimed.

"... What does that have to do with our current situation?"

Instead of answering, Apollo gestured to a caricature of what looked like Kronos merging with… Something or someone. "Because, Kronos did it before. He merged with a Protogeni, just like we did thousands of years later, remember?"

Artemis' thought process came to a grinding halt as Apollo began to babble and ramble once more.

"What do you mean, he merged with a Protogeni!" Artemis shouted out.

Apollo paused. Slowly, the golden tinge of his skin seemed to recede, turning paler by the second.

"Eh, hehe. Didn't I tell you guys when that happened? It was a weird shift, but I assumed everyone else knew 'cause we were little and-"

"YOU IDIOT!"

"Owe! Sis! Not the hair! Not the face! My beautiful face!"

"We might not be in this mess if you had just spoken sooner! What did he merge with! Tell me!"

"Owe! Kronos merged with Chronos, alright! He merged with the Protogeni of Time!" Apollo managed to bite out between dodging Artemis and her hunting knives, an impressive feat to be sure. Artemis froze, eyes lighting with shock.

"... Kronos has always been the Titan Lord of Time, Apollo."

She expected her brother to dissuade it. She expected him to contradict her, and continue on with his insane theory. Instead, Apollo just nodded.

"Exactly. The Fusion Theory makes it so two people have always been one. One swallows the other, and the end result is a timeline where the fusion had always been."

Artemis processed the words slowly. Then, she spoke.

"Still… What does that have to do with our current situation?"

"Simple: the Fusion Theory has been placed into effect again. Someone is being swallowed as we speak. Once the fusion is complete, both alternative timelines will be cohesively welded together, making this the new reality." Apollo revealed.

"So… We merely need to stop the fusion, and things go back to how they were!" Artemis exclaimed in excitement, smashing her fist against her palm as hope began to blossom. "Why didn't you think of this earlier?"

"The fusion process just began, so I felt it. That, and I can feel new presences, people from the original timeline before the fusion began. Although… If I can feel them, that means we probably have less than a week to prevent the apocalypse."

What?

No, seriously, what?

Artemis felt like groaning. Great. Is this what it felt like to be a Demigod given a quest to stop some twisted horror on a limited time frame?


	5. Tiber's Fall

A/N: To the person that commented on Percy saying he doesn't like blondes about how he must like them because of Annabeth, you're kinda missing the point. Blondes remind him of Annabeth. Annabeth is no longer a happy memory for this Percy, hence why he says that

Published: 2/11/2018

Warnings: Blood

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 **Tiber's Fall**

Percy, for once, did not want to be slammed into water, thank you very much. He knew what this water would do. He knew this water was his weakness, ironic as that sounded. He knew that these waters, while naturally strengthening him, would also syphon at his power.

Perhaps, Percy considered, that was the plan all along. He wouldn't put it past Kronos. There was a reason that twisted bastard was known as the Crooked One.

Unfortunately, clad in armor that was literally twisting against him, and who the hell knew that the Roman Commander had that kind of trick up his sleeve when all the reports indicated he could only bend wind and lightning, had been surprising. Percy supposed it was his fault.

He'd gotten arrogant, confident in his own skin, confident in his own powers. Unbelieving that he could possibly be felled. That was his mistake. That was his error. He had forgotten. That same arrogance had won him so many fights, won him so many because gods can't possibly imagine a puny human harming them, and that is their downfall.

They fall so easily because they don't bother using a fraction of their power. Utterly pathetic. Percy couldn't believe he'd fallen for the same ploy, even as his body smashed against the surface of the river, water exploding everywhere, soaking him through. He could feel it. That tinge on his skin.

Blessing. Curse. Call it what you wish, fading from him. Crackling away into nothing.

Hm. No matter.

True, the Curse of Achilles had been a wonderful boon, but, really?

After killing Poseidon, Percy didn't exactly need it. Not anymore.

Percy roared, and the Little Tiber obeyed.

Romans, Kronos' Guard, the whole damn fucking world. Percy would kill them. Percy would kill them all. He didn't care what side they were on. He didn't care what they're ideals were. He didn't care why they fought, why they were here. He didn't give a damn at all.

The world had betrayed him, and Percy had betrayed it in turn.

Jason Grace had made a grave mistake. Yes, he had stripped Percy of his nigh invulnerable skin. However, at the same time, he had landed Percy in the one place where he was strongest, dropped him right into the heart of a river, right into the heart of a body of water, and Percy would-

The water tugged against him.

Percy blinked.

Around him, they began to form. Naiads. Really? No, really? It had been so long since Percy had been challenged by Naiads, of all things. They used to love him. They used to help him, even. Flirtatious smirk here, flirtatious smirk there, ect. However, all that changed when Percy drove a blade through Poseidon's heart.

The water spirits of the world, for some reason beyond Percy, actually took offense to that. Apparently, they liked him. Hm. Who knew?

Then, the river god of the Little Tiber rose as well, a growl on his lips.

Oh, so that's how it was going to be?

Game on.

* * *

Jason wasted no time. The second Percy had gone overboard, his first reaction was to man one of the turrets. The Argo II had been modified in ways Leo would no doubt not approve of. He was pretty sure he saw a bloody minigun mounted up higher, but Jason wasn't going to bother climbing up there.

That trick that he'd pulled with the air particles was way more draining than it looked. It takes a shit load of energy to rip the air to the point where there isn't even a single atom left inbetween, which is exactly what Jason had done to Percy.

If Percy hadn't pinned him like that, it would have never worked. Jason needed physical contact for that little trick, which Percy-

No. Not Percy. Not his bro. A monster. A monster wearing his face. A monster that was currently beating the life out of a river god.

Jackson was standing on the surface of the water, dancing around a group of Naiads trying to slice at him. His armor lay shattered in pieces, floating around him, leaving the traitor clad only in a pair of soaked briefs that clung tightly to his body.

A body covered in slashes.

How the Naiads were negating Percy's natural healing when it came to water was beyond Jason, but maybe it had to do with the fact that the god of the river was literally being choked to death by Percy, who's twisted slasher smile had returned with full force.

Jason blinked.

"He's going to kill them!" Reyna stated the obvious.

Jason spun the cannon around, and pointed.

"Then let's give him something else to worry about." Jason all but growled, firing away.

Firing at Percy.

Firing at his bro.

Firing at someone he had always believed he would never have to fight seriously.

Firing, while ignoring the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes, because that thing, that wasn't Percy anymore. The Percy he knew was nothing like that. The Percy he knew wouldn't bring someone to their knees, twisting their own blood against them, grinning with a sadistic joy, a look of euphoria on his face while he caused more and more suffering.

A look of euphoria on his face as he choked the life out of the river god.

So, Jason aimed, and fired.

* * *

The tales of the Great Jason Grace, slayer of Krios, were highly exaggerated. Sure, that metal trick had been cool, Percy could admit, but opening fire on him while he was in the water? In the water surrounded by Naiads that were desperately trying to keep him from gaining control of it?

The first cannonball smashed not a foot away, shattering carely crafted control.

Percy smirked.

It had taken all of them to hold him back. All of them, and Jason, stupid Jason, was doing more harm than good. Water blasted all around them all, and Percy dove, even as Jason fired again and again.

The cannon balls exploded with fiery Greek flames, green and vicious and fighting against the water. Steam shot up into the air all around him, and Percy enjoyed it. Enjoyed the screams of the water spirits that fool had been so desperate to save.

Then, the other fucker came.

Little Tiber was fond of his trident. Percy personally took offense to anyone who wielded those. He enjoying crushing the life out of them. Tiber appeared before him, materializing rapidly. Only a few swirling bubbles had warned his presence before he was there, swinging that ridiculous metal pole at Percy's exposed flesh.

Stupid, really.

"Die, traitor."

Tiber wasn't very talkative. Boring, really. Percy's hand darted out, gripping the shaft as it slid past him, and he pulled. Tiber, idiot that he was, didn't let go as Percy dragged him all the closer before his hand darted out.

"No one to save you here. Little Jay is such a good boy. I think I almost forgive him for killing my awesome t-shirt." Percy lied through his teeth even as his palm slammed into the river god's skull.

* * *

"Stop firing!"

Jason felt numb even as Reyna pulled him back. He felt numb, but the damage was already done, and shit, he just messed up more and more, didn't he?

Jason had aimed right for Percy. He hadn't managed to land a direct hit, but the burning green flames had made him hope he had actually struck anyways.

Instead, what he got was hissing Naiads, some of them even retreating to land, clutching at their wounds. Clutching at wounds Jason had inflicted while trying to take out Percy.

Friendly fire wasn't exactly friendly, and Jason hadn't thought.

He couldn't think. Not right now. Not with Perc- Jackson. Not Percy. The monster. The monster, Jason reminded himself.

The monster that just yesterday was one of his closest friends, one of the people Jason trusted with his life. The monster that only hours before-

"Damnit, Jason Grace!"

Jason's head twisted to the side as Reyna slapped him, hard.

"We don't have time for you to be having a panic attack! We don't have time for you to be having a breakdown! NOW, TELL ME, JASON GRACE, WHO ARE YOU?"

Jason turned to her, expression confused.

"I- what?"

Reyna gripped his shoulders.

"You are Jason Grace. Pontifex Maximus of Camp Jupiter. You are our leader. You are the one we turn to in our time of need. You are our general, expected to think clearly and forward in a crisis! NOW, FUCKING ACT LIKE IT!"

She was right, Jason realized. This was no time to be freaking out. This was no time to be-

Water blasted once more from the river. Glancing down, the pair of them realized that the fire, green and vibrant, had been swept away. No… That wasn't it. No. It was… Being frozen?

Percy rose out of the water, arm extended out before him, a limp body held in its grip. The river god, slain. But, then, that meant…

Percy's face was downright feral. Eyes wide, a grin that was all teeth, green blood obviously not his own covering him, Jason watched as Tiber shattered before their very eyes, his power seeping into Percy.

Wait…

What in the world?

Percy grinned. Then, turning towards the camp, he made a sweeping motion with his hand, and, once more, all hell broke loose as the water, dark and tinged with the blood of it's former lord, obeyed.

This… How were they suppose to win against this? What possible hope could they have against this monster?

* * *

So, I know have a tumblr. Same username as on here. I've just started the thing, but I'll be posting random things there for all my stories


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